jason collins ☤ luke castellan (evilmalemodel) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2013-01-01 21:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | aidan george, colin ford, jason collins, lisette ross, shae holloway, theresa philips, thomas taylor, wesley roberts |
Who: Any Agency employee (and their plus-ones)!
What: The Agency's New Year's Eve Party!
When: Slightly backdated to December 31st, 2012, around 11 PM.
Where: The Agency HQ, London
Warnings: Well, it's a party, and there's alcohol. Anything goes?
This wasn't the first Agency New Year's Eve party Jason had ever been to, but in some ways, it certainly felt like it. While their parties were never the same, from the minute he walked in the ballroom (which wasn't an actual ballroom – it was just the biggest room in the building, and thus where the parties usually occurred), he had the distinct feeling that something was missing. It was a palpable feeling, one that didn't go away until he realized it wasn't a something, it was someone. Several someones, in fact. People who shouldn't been at the party, but weren't, for various reasons. He thought of Michelle, who used to be in charge of these things and whose glittered invitations were infamous, and a lump formed in his throat, but he swallowed, pushed it down, and put his party face on. Or tried to, anyway. He'd need a couple drinks first.
It had been a rough year for the Agency. A rough year for everyone, really, and just looking around the room in the first few hours of the party, you could tell. Nobody really started to relax until the second bowl of punch came out, and even then there was still a cloud over all of them, like they felt subconsciously felt ashamed for being able to enjoy themselves. That was survivor's guilt for you, but if working at the Agency taught you anything, it was how to live with it. How to put it aside just for a little while so you could enjoy the moment. Once they remembered they were here to have fun, that one of the most devastating years in recent memory was finally (or almost finally) behind them, the party became a party, the kind the Agency used to be famous for.
Yeah, there were a lot of faces missing, but none of them would've wanted their friends and coworkers to stand around like they were at a wake. Once Jason and the rest remembered that, they were golden. They relaxed – they drank, they danced, they let loose, and he, for one, was happy to be alive. Grateful, even, though after several glasses of the "special punch," he had a funny way of showing it, but if you could count on Jason Collins for anything (not including biting off more than he could chew)? It was being the perfect comedic relief when he was completely and utterly plastered.
"BUT YA DIDN'T HAVETA CUUUUT ME OOOOOFFF," he belted drunkenly, slurring off-key and holding the ladle for the punch like it was a microphone. "MAKE OUT LIKE IT DINTHAPPanweernothi..." Deep breath. "AN' I DON' EEVEN NEEEEED YER LOOOO – whoa, hi, table – BUT YA TREEME LIKA STRANGER AN' I FEEL SO RO – hey! That's my microwave! ... Phone. Microphone. Telephone? HEY, SOMEONE PUT ON LADY GAGA!"